


Getting Better

by SadieDonovan747



Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M, McLennon, The Beatles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 21:09:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7137203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadieDonovan747/pseuds/SadieDonovan747
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul tries acid with John for the first time. In a very introspective trip, they both learn more about each other and themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Better

“Why don’t you start being a little less of a stick in the mud, Macca?” John stated, scowling at him. George simply nodded in silent agreement, strumming at his guitar. “I know you’re too posh for this sort of thing, but Georgie and I, well, we like the stuff. Gets our heads going.”

“It’s not that I haven’t tried it; it’s just not for me, y’know,” Paul replied, looking down and scribbling out lyrics to his new song. “Here have a look see,” Paul shoved the piece of paper into John’s hands. John glanced it over for a few seconds before scribbling his own writing onto the piece of paper and placing it back into Paul’s hands. Paul raised his eyebrows and bit his lip. “Ah, yes.”

“I agree with Paul,” Ringo called from the back of the studio. He lay in soft recline at his drums, twirling his sticks. 

“No you don’t, Rings, you like it just as much as the rest of us,” George retorted, shaking his head.

“You don’t have to lay into him every two minutes about it,” Ringo answered.

“Yeah, what he said. Lay off,” Paul laughed. 

“Ready boys?” George Martin’s voice echoed through the studio. Paul gave a thumbs up, and Paul, Ringo, and George took their places.

John ran his fingers through his hair. They had been working tirelessly at their new _Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band_ album. It hadn’t entirely revealed its overarching sound to the four of them quite yet, and Paul had been pretty determined to take an entirely different direction. John and George pushed from a different direction due to their recent experiences with LSD. John yawned and picked up a pill that he thought was an upper, and popped it right into his mouth without thinking.

He took his place at his mic, determined to feel its effects immediately. He imagined he felt energized, and they began a take of “Getting Better”. After a few different takes, John began to feel slightly off. An intense high overcame him and he couldn’t get the words out anymore. “I’m so sorry, I can’t seem to remember the words,” he shook and nearly knocked the microphone over. “What was it?”

“John are you all right?” George Martin called through the speaker. 

“I feel ill.” John blinked roughly. The walls had begun to breath. _Fuck this is an acid trip_. John thought in a panic.

Paul dropped his bass and pulled his headphones off of his head in a hurry. He took John’s arm and looked into his heavily dilated pupils. “All right, Johnny?”

“I need some air,” John gasped beginning to have a bad trip.

George Martin rushed downstairs and hurried John out of the room for some air on the roof. Paul and Ringo supposed he had simply taken John outside the front door of the studio, but the second John stepped out onto the roof and saw the stars laid out before him he had the urge to fly. He swayed on his feet, and George Martin held him, unsure of what was taking place. 

Paul held his head, unwilling to continue recording anything until he knew John was okay. All three waited expectantly. “‘Ey, where’ve they gone? Does anyone know?”

Someone answered “George took him on the roof.”

In an instant, Ringo and Paul were on their feet, rushing up the stairs to the roof. “John!” Paul roared, immediately taking his arm and leading him back inside, much to the surprise of George Martin. “Are you nuts, George?” Paul asked furiously even though he knew George Martin didn’t realize what was occurring.

“I can’t go on,” John whispered in Paul’s ear much like a small child. “I’ll just have to stay and watch… Is that alright?”

“Yeah, Johnny. It’s all right,” Paul replied in a comforting voice.

John sat off to the side of the studio while Paul, Ringo, and George attempted to set back up and begin again. Paul was too distracted, glancing over at his best mate to see if he was okay. “Are you all sure it’s all right?” John asked again to the entire group.

“Yes, John, it’s all right,” Ringo replied from behind his drums.

George moved over to Paul and whispered in his ear. “You know we can’t do this without John.”

“Yeah, okay, we’re done here. Let’s call it a night,” Paul nodded, serious about the situation. He wasn’t angry, however. Paul stared at John looking so frightened with a hint of wonder in his face during his acid trip. Paul wondered if this may be the opportunity he was waiting for to try acid for the first time. He had never wanted to try the drug in a group setting, but his being with John would be a comforting and relaxing trip— or so he thought. 

They had ceased recording a few hours before schedule, and John’s driver was not going to show up for a few hours as well. Ringo and George high-tailed it out of the studio to get back to their families early. He looked directly at John and said, “Would you like to go back to my place? I’ll trip with you.”

A look that Paul had never seen crossed John’s face. A look of pure and utter excitement and also intense love and appreciation for Paul. “Yeah!” he answered. “I’ve got the good stuff, Paulie.”

“I know you do, Johnny,” Paul laughed, taking John’s hand and heading for his car. He put John in the passenger seat and drove as slowly as he could to Cavendish Avenue. John pulled what appeared to be an eyedropper out of his pocket, and with shaky fingers, he dropped two drops of liquid onto a sugar cube.

“Come on now, take it.” John held the cube up to Paul’s mouth, and Paul opened wide, taking the cube happily. 

“When does it kick in?” Paul asked, slightly nervous about what was to come.

“You have a while,” John answered, cuddling into a nest he had made on Paul’s couch. Paul sat on the floor and leaned back against the couch, and John wrapped his arms around him as he leaned back. “Thank you for experiencing this with me…”

“I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else, that’s for sure. You’re special, Johnny,” Paul joked. John surprised Paul then with a light and loving kiss to his cheek. “Johnny,” Paul whispered, chuckling. “You’re such a queer sometimes.”

“I’m sorry,” John apologized as Paul turned to look at him with joyful eyes. John batted his eyelashes quickly, giving a coy grin. 

They lay together for about forty-five minutes before Paul began to gaze intently at the adjacent wall. “Johnny, I don’t think I’ve ever been this high before in my life.” Paul had smoked many joints before, but none had ever caused him to become this high. 

“Well, do you see anything?” John asked.

Paul had trouble focusing, but he stared intently at the wall as it seemed to breath in front of his eyes. “Woah,” he whispered. “Are you seeing this?” he asked John. 

“I’m seeing a lot more than that, Paulie. Just wait,” John held onto Paul more tightly. 

It wasn’t long before Paul began to see patterns in the ceiling and bright colors began to stand out significantly. Bright colors became extremely pleasing. Then he began seeing colors he thought he had never seen in his life before. He gazed at his hands and waved them. They seemed to lag and he saw about ten of his hand cloned in the air at once. Paul laughed and laughed. He could not seem to stop giggling like a schoolgirl. “John this is incredible.” He looked up at John for the first time he had tripped and was astonished.

John was even more pleasing to look at when he was tripping— and believe it that he looked at John _a lot_. John stared directly back at Paul, donning a very stern expression. He reached out and cupped Paul’s cheek and stared directly into his eyes. Paul held his breath, instantly hallucinating that he was simply looking at a mirror of himself inside of John’s eyes. John and Paul felt themselves meld into each other, becoming one. They spoke a thousand words to each other simply gazing into each other’s eyes. Paul had already felt this sensation, many times, as they would write songs together. But this was different. This was much more intense.

Paul didn’t know how long they sat like that, but he eventually broke the eye contact and looked around, fishing inside of his brain to find a topic of conversation. “This makes me want to experience everything while on acid,” Paul blurted out, squeezing the side of the couch. “Y’know I almost wonder what sex would feel like on this stuff,” Paul joked. “I mean it’s almost better than sex, this feeling.”

“That’s an interesting question,” John stated, shifting slightly on the couch. “I’ve surprisingly never done it. Haven’t met the bird who was worth the fuck while in my altered state.”

“That’s a shame,” Paul said mindlessly continuing to watch the walls. 

“Here, let me show you something, Paulie,” John said, rising to his feet and digging through an adjacent closet. From inside, he retrieved a normal looking box with bulbs all over it. “This was a gift from Magic Alex,” John said with a laugh.

“Oh man, it must be an interesting contraption if Alex crafted it,” Paul joked. John erupted in laughter as he turned it on. All different colored lights flashed across its sides. Paul’s mouth fell open, instantly mesmerized by the colors. “Johnny, turn the damn thing off, that will be the death of me.”

“Aw, spoil sport.” John pouted before switching it off. “Perhaps you’re right, though, Macca. You can’t handle it.”

“Oh yeah?” Paul laughed, coming at John with one of the couch pillows. He nailed John right on the crown of his head, knocking him slightly delerious.

“Oh, so you want to play that game, eh, Macca?” John shouted, grabbing the nearest pillow and coming back at Paul. They beat each other senseless before grappling onto each other and wrestling each other to the ground. Paul hooted in laugher as John pinned him to the floor. Both of their heads were clear as crystal as they made eye contact once more, and each was held mesmerized once more.

Despite their hallucinations, their heads remained clear, keeping their growing desires at bay for many moments. “I’d like to try something, Paulie,” John whispered. His eyes shifted nervously from Paul’s gaze.

“What, Johnny?” Paul asked, his eyelids narrowing, softening his gaze.

John pulled away. “You wouldn’t be interested, I’m sure of it.”

“No, no,” Paul caught John by the arm. “I’ll try anything for you, Johnny.”

“Is that so?”

“It is,” Paul answered, pulling John softly toward him. “I am here, aren’t I?”

John nodded his head. He knew Paul would have never tried LSD if it wasn’t for his love of it. John came to the realization that Paul wished for the two of them to be one. If John loved something, the younger musician always gave it a try. He wanted them to be equals in everything. John turned his gaze back to Paul’s. Paul was biting his lip nervously. He knew what was coming.

John reached out and cupped Paul’s cheek, bringing him closer and closer. It was a slow and fluid motion, and Paul’s heart raced as his face was drawn nearer and nearer to John’s. Finally, John pressed his lips gently to Paul’s, feeling out the sensation of kissing another man after so many years. He hadn’t kissed another man since his fling with Stuart Sutcliffe in their flat. 

John had ended his affair with Stuart the moment he fell in love with another… another band member. A young, handsome fellow by the name of James Paul McCartney. After that, he knew Stuart had to go. He fired him the next day. Paul’s feelings for John were not new either; he had been exceedingly jealous of Stuart. 

The two separated from the sweet kiss and surveyed each other’s expressions. Despite the colors swirling through Paul’s vision, he could clearly see the pleased expression of his best friend. They kissed again, and Paul parted his lips for John’s eager tongue. They lapped at each other, and Paul wrapped his arms around John possessively. John tangled his fingers into Paul’s hair, locking his face in the kiss with a firm hand. John kept Paul pinned to the ground with his whole weight. 

“Oh, Johnny,” Paul whispered into the kiss. John moaned gruffly before breaking the kiss again.

“What’s that?” John asked with a coy grin.

“Oh, shut up,” Paul said, embarrassed. He pulled John to him once again to continue kissing. After several minutes, the scene became more and more heated as passion overcame both of them. John began to rhythmically grind his junk against Paul’s between his legs. They panted, cheeks red and eager. “Oh, John, please,” Paul pleaded, his eyes full of pleasure.

John pulled Paul’s shirt over his head. “Paul I can’t handle myself anymore…” John began, unbuttoning Paul’s pants with shaky fingers.

“Are you going to fuck me like one of your birds, Johnny?” Paul asked sweetly. It was such a filthy, yet innocent question, it drove John mad.

“You would like that wouldn’t you, Macca? I know how you are…” John growled, pulling Paul’s pants to his knees. He pulled his own shirt off, and dropped his pants hurriedly. Paul moaned at the sight of John’s dick, standing upright, and so tempting. _This is wrong_. Paul thought to himself, but he didn’t want to be right. He couldn’t be right. He was so fucked up, and he wanted his friend like mad. 

“Be gentle, Johnny,” Paul pleaded lightly in a defeated voice as John turned him around. 

“I will, Paulie,” John whispered into the back of Paul’s hair. “I love you, Paul… I’d never let anything happen to you.”

Paul bit his lip as John slicked his fingers with lubricant and buried them one by one into Paul’s hole. Paul saw stars as John fingered him slowly, stretching his fingers out, and in turn, stretching Paul out for what was to come. “Are you ready?” John whispered, finding it hard to control himself any longer.

“Yes,” Paul answered before John slowly slid half of his length into Paul. Paul reared up and clenched his fists. John kissed the back of his neck, his shoulders, his beautiful spine before moving fully into him. John rolled his hips slowly at first, taking in every sound Paul made, every small grunt, every ungodly moan. His hair was already slick with sweat as he rolled his hips faster, grunting melodically with his bandmate. The colors became brighter, more intense, the feeling was strange but unbelievably pleasurable. Paul hallucinated patterns behind his closed eyelids; he felt as if his heart was going to explode. John hit his prostate over and over again, and his mouth fell open. He had never felt pleasure so exquisite in his entire life. He felt John’s breath on the back of his neck.

John slid a hand in front of Paul and batted his hand away from his dick. John took it into his own hands and began to stroke Paul slowly. He had so much control over Paul at that moment that it nearly made him finish early. “Argh… Paul…” John stuttered before Paul finished into his hand with a loud cry. Paul grabbed a fistful of one of the pillows and buried his face into the shag carpet. His mind was humming as he felt John come just as violently. John pulled out and came all over Paul’s backside, his brain also screaming in pleasure. 

John collapsed onto the floor and buried his face in his hands, hardly believing what he and Paul had just done. He peeked over at his best friend who was already looking at him. Paul’s ebony hair stuck to the side of his face, and his chest heaved. His face was absolutely radiant in the afterglow of love-making— or simple experimentation; John was not sure.

“Paul,” John finally said, looking Paul over, naked and helpless. “You’re more beautiful right now than any bird I’ve ever had the chance to fuck.” John cringed at his own wording and the awkwardness of the statement.

Paul laughed and looked down in his usual cute expression of embarrassment, his cheeks gathering up and fattening with his smile. “Thank you, Johnny. What a strange thing to say.”

“I’m sorry if you didn’t want this,” John said, choking slightly. _Damn it._ He hadn’t wanted the tears to come. 

“Johnny, I’ve wanted this for a long time,” Paul reassured, alarmed at John’s sudden change of emotions. He rolled over to John, wrapping him in an embrace. “I didn’t know what your feelings were,” Paul continued.

“I don’t want you to think any less of me.”

“John, you know me better than that,” Paul said.

“That’s what worries me,” John laughed through the small teardrops budding at the edges of his eyes. He wiped his face and looked away. 

“John, I’ll never leave you or judge you,” Paul said firmly, grabbing John’s arms and wrapping himself up in them. They lay in this manner for a long time, ignoring the hallucinations for some time. “We should go to sleep,” Paul said.

John laughed genuinely this time. “Good luck! You’ll be very lucky if you can make yourself stop tripping. You have to wait until it wears off.”

“What? No one told me that.”

“I figured you’d know!” John said. They both laughed and retired to Paul’s room. They lay together in the same bed as they used to in the early days, but not top and tail like they always would. Paul lay with John’s head on his chest, and they observed the rest of their trip in deep conversation with each other. Paul could not imagine a better night of firsts, and he thought contentedly of the future. 

 


End file.
